As we ventured out further, The Black Sheep Research division ran into many problems. For one, there seemed to be several rivers flowing all around Oakland, apparently the usual river of Natty, regret, and satisfaction are nothing compared to when it’s Mother Nature’s time of the month. After swimming through the streets of Deep South and North Oakland, we found out who the kinds of people are who live on the second half of Oakland. Each street has a different feel to it, and in that light: here is what the street you live on says about you.
Like the sweet son of North Oakland, these residents enjoy the luxuries of never having to deal with normal apartment things like casual robberies and spontaneous house parties. Although it’s not like these kids could go without some excitement. Normally, their debilitating shyness is masked by their ability to get obscenely drunk and play the Tuba all night.
Louisa’s residents are special bread. With Doggin’ it and Gene’s Place right there, these people have the distinctive thought that they can throw cans of Bud Light off their balconies after shotgunning without a thought because praising their street with the remnants of cheap beer acts as a barrier between the reckless hooligans of Mckee and Atwood.
These island dwellers cry a lot. It’s a sad day for them when their friends constantly have to say, “I don’t want to walk so far home drunk,” or “I don’t want to walk home and have to avoid bandana wearing asshole robbers who try to make small talk.” They gaze over the Boulevard as if they are a freshman trying to look from Sorrento’s if their buddy in Doggin’ it made it out with the stuff yet.
You know those people that walked five people shoulder to shoulder down Forbes when you’re already five minutes late to your Argument Class, and then you have to walk around them in the street and try not to get hit by the oncoming bus? Well think of them but add another homeless person to the chain and Dawson accepts them all
Drunk guys stumbling out of houses, cops chilling there until 5 a.m. without fail, these douchecanoe’s float around and throw daylongs on Tuesdays in September, because college. Just kidding, this street’s got a cup of debauchery, a dash of civility, a spritz of Gin, and plenty of cinnamon for that homey warm feeling, think grandma’s cookies meets Fireball.
You know that kid in your class who sits there in Intermediate Poetry drawing broken skulls and when they raise their hand for the first time they say something terrifying and since that day, when you sit next to them you think they’re going to stab you in the neck with their pencil? Well that’s how I feel about their 80-degree cobble stone road. I’ve heard the people living there are pretty chill though.